What's so Special About Today?
by sugarhuney2
Summary: What happens when a depressed Canada thinks everyone has forgotten about him on his special day? Rated T for dark themes. Suicidal!Canada included.
1. They forgot Again

**A/N: This is an edited and reposted (A.K.A. BETTER!) version of Canada's suicide attempt. I hope you like it an agree with the changes I made. -sugarhuney**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hetalia, or any of its characters.**

**WARNING! This fanfiction contains Dark!/Suicidal!Canada.**

**/ / /**

"Canada? That's a weird name, mister." Kumajirou, Canada's bear, said.

"That's my country name... My actual name is Matthieu Williams, remember?" Canada said in his normal, quiet tone.

"No... But, well, whatever you say, mister." The bear said, and ate the food Canada just poured into his bowl.

Canada sighed. "Not even _you _remember my name..." He mumbled to the bear, and walked into the kitchen, where freshly-made pancakes were waiting for him on the counter. Or, well, he thought so anyhow.

When Canada got into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was his brother, America, better known as Alfred Jones, sitting on the countertop... And he was _**eating his pancakes**_.

Canada felt a surge of anger overcome him, but he pushed it down quickly. But still... He had been looking forward to those pancakes...

"A-america! S-since when did you get here?" He asked.

"About ten minutes ago. I saw you talking to your bear, so I decided to wait... And then I got hungry... And then I smelled food... And now I'm eating these AMAZING pancakes!" America said, a big grin plastered on his face.

Canada sighed again. This definitely was _not _his best day. "Alfred... I was really looking forward to those pancakes..." He mumbled, then sadly walked over to the stove so he could make some more.

"They were good." America said. "Ah, anyways! How's your day going, bro?"

Canada perked up. Maybe, just maybe his day could be saved!

"J-just fine America... W-why do you ask?" Canada asked, hope rising in his chest.

"Oh, no reason. Just asked out of habit... and because you're my bro." Alfred said.

Canada's heart sunk like a rock. His brother _hadn't _remembered.

"So... um, why'd you come over?" Canada asked.

"Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me! I came over because I needed to ask a favor!" America said.

Canada again felt anger surge through his entire body. "What do you need...?" Canada finally managed to force out.

"Well, I've been told I'm horrible at baking, so I wanted to know if you could make me a cake."

Canada looked at America questioningly. "Why?"

"No reason! I want something sweet, and you make pretty good cakes. Especially _pan_cakes!"

Canada groaned. Stupid puns. Well, at least he liked to bake. "What kind?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter what kind, as long as it's a cake." America replied.

"Okay..." Canada mumbled, forgetting about making his second batch of pancakes, he set out for soe other ingredients in his cupboards. akin this cake would get his brother out of the house, and that's exactly what he wanted at the moment.

"Do you want my help at all?"

"No... I can do it."

"Alright, then! I'll be out in the other room, 'kay?"

Canada nodded, muttering under his breath when his brother finally left the room.

_Vanilla... Alfred's second favorite... Maybe he'll leave now... _Canada thought as he finished frosting the cake.

Canada walked out of the kitchen and over to his brother. "Alright, Alfred. It's d-"

"Thanks dude!" America inturrupted, and ran into the kitchen, snatched the cake, and ran out the door, yelling a 'see ya!'.

Canada sighed. At least his brother had left... His brother was happy, so he should be happy, too, right?

_No..._Canada thought. _No more of that... Only America and France know who I am... And apperantly not enough to remember what today is._

Canada left the kitchen, heading for his room.

A short trek up some stairs... The room at the very end... It was no problem getting there.

Cream colored walls, maple leaf wall stick-ons, bedspread with the Canadian flag on it, greenish-brown carpeting... It was slightly comforting to Canada.

Canada walked into the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He looked in the mirror, mad at his appearace for no reason, then yanked open his medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of pills. While he was still in the bathroom, he took a plastic cup, the one he always used for water, and filled it. Then, he walked back into his room, the cup in one hand, the pills in the other, and sat on the bed. He put the pills onto his lap and the water was placed on his nightstand.

Canada then opened the second drawer on said nightstand and pulled out his old pocket knife, the one Alfred gave to him during the War, and a heavy item wrapped in cloth. He dropped them both onto his lap.

Grabing the pill bottle he had taken out of the bathroom, he hastily unscrewed the lid. He shook out a handful of sleeping pills and swallowed them all as quickly as he could, downing all of the water within seconds. He had to deal with some of the pills painfully catching in his throat, though.

He set the pill bottle inside of the cup and put them both onto his nightstand. He picked up his pocketknife and opened it. The blade looked shiny and seemed new because Canada made sure to polish and sharpen it as often as possible. He dug the tip of the knife into his left wrist and dragged it to the sid slowly, leaving an awful gash. He did the same to his right wrist.

_Maybe they'll notice my wrists first. Then they'll feel sorry for me. That might possibly lead them to start caring about me... _Canada thought.

He picked up the last item in his lap, the heavy thing wrapped in cloth.

Canada quickly tore the cloth away and stared at the item.

It was a gun. An old-fashioned handgun that Canada secretly kept for emergencies like this. It was all prepared to shoot.

He put the barrel against his head and out the finger on the trigger.

_Maybe someone will actually care about my death... _Canada thought.

_No... No one cares at all._

_They didn't even remember my birthday._


	2. Are you okay?

**A/N:Update number TWO! I'm rather pleased with myself at this point. ^,^ I hope you are all fine with the changes I made.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Hetalia... WAHHH!**

**WARNING! This fanfiction contains slight yaoi, dark themes, suicidal thoughts, some language, and probably some other themes that might make some people squeamish.**

**/ / /**

Canada heard a door squeak open, then slam closed.

"Hey, Mattie! Where are you?!" America yelled from downstairs.

Canada grit his teeth. "Shit, Alfred... You ruin everything..." He mumbled, then stood and walked over to his closet. There, he grabbed his favorite hoodie, the red one with the shiny gold maple leaf on the front, and put it on to cover his cuts.

"Mattie?" America called, sounding worried.

"One sec!" Canada called, then left his room and made his way to the Living Room, were America's voice had come from.

The second America saw him, he ran over to him and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug/ "Oh, great Mattie! I thought that commie bastard got you!" He exclaimed.

Canada sighed. "You really shouldn't call him that Alfred... Russia is a really good guy."

"That's what you say NOW..." America mumbled, then changed the subject. "So, dude, I totally need to take you somewhere!"

Canada stared at his brother. "What? Oh... Are you going to take me out drinking again? That didn't turn out so well last time you know..." He said. _"Last time, you got so drunk that you took off your pants and decided it would be okay to dance on the bar table..." _He thought.

America shook his head. "No, we're not going drinking this time. I'm taking you somewhere BETTER!" He said happily.

"Oh... but, Alfred... I have stuff to do." Canada lied.

"Well, it can wait till later! Come on, you'll love it, I promise!" America said, then dragged Canada outside to his car.

Canada was still irritably fumbling with his seatbelt when America started the car, and Canada had only just buckled it when America sped off.

"..." The sleeping pills were starting to kick in, more or less. Canada felt dizzy, and the car ride wasn't helping anything. The scenery, whizzing by as fast as it was, only made Canada's head hurt.

"It's too fast..." Canada mumbled.

"What was that? Too fast? Dude, you're such a buzzkill! We're only going, like, 50!" America said.

Canada shrugged and closed his eyes. It would be a while before he died. It was all because he was a nation... Personifiations are quite hard to kill, just so you know.

"Sorry America. I just have a bit of a headache, and the car just seemed to be going a little fast." Canada said.

"Oh. Well, there's no need for you to apologize for a headache. How about you just sleep until we get there?" America suggested.

"Way ahead of you..." Canada mumbled.

**/ / /**

"Hey, Mattie! Wake up! We're here." America said.

Canada cracked open a sleepy eye. "Hungh...?" He mumbled.

"I said we're here. Get up!" America said.

Canada looked out the window. "Why are we at your house?" He asked.

"Because we are." America said.

Canada unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. His heart sped up and his breath hitched. He clung to the door for support as this passed.

"Dude, you alright?" America asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just really tired..." Canada said.

"Oh." America said, obviously concerned. "Do you need a hand getting inside?"

Canada shook his head, but America walked over to him and made him use his shoulder for support.

At this, Canada became somewhat irritable, but he let his brother continue giving him support.

As they neared the front door, Canada snuck a look at his brother's face. He was scowling, and said scowl was getting deeper and deeper with every step.

"Alfred, are you alright? You look... angry." Canada said.

America jumped. He must've forgetten he was almost carrying Canada._ "Am I really that light?"_

"Ah, sorry! I was just thinking about something." America said, a goofy smile coming to his face.

They finally reached the door. Canada stepped away from his brother and they walked inside.

"It's movie night! Remember? It's at _my _house this time." America said, smiling broadly.

Canada's eyebrows furrowed.

America's smile faded as he saw the confused look on his brother's face. "Did you forget?" He asked.

"Oh! Um, of course not!" Canada lied.

"Well, come on then!" America said, and dragged his brother to the living room couch. Canada sat down and looked at his brother, a questioning look on his face.

America just smiled. "I'll be right back, bro!" He said, and walked away.

Canada sighed. "Movie night... I should've known..." He thought, and closed his eyes.

**/ / /**

"Mattie! Wake up bro!" America called from somewhere behind him.

Canada opened his eyes. "What do you need, Al?" He asked.

"Come out here real quick!"

"Where are you?"

"Kitchen!"

Canada got up from the sofa. He felt awfully tired. It was almost to much effort to keep his eyes open. He made his way into the kitchen.

"Okay, I'm here. What did you need?" Canada asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"SURPRISE!"

Canada jumped, then adjusted his glasses so that he could see what was going on.

His entire family and Russia stood before him.

"Matvey! How are you, my friend?" Russia asked.

"Matthieu! I haven't seen you in a month! Are you doing alright?" France asked.

England had forgotten who Canada was, yet again.

"Happy birthday, bro!" America cheered.

Canada smiled, then frowned.

"What's the matter, dude?" America asked, seeing Canada's expression.

"What made you remember now? You forgot it all the time before... But this year...?" Canada asked.

America blushed. "Erm, ah... yeah... Actually... You can thank the commie for that one... He was the one that reminded all of us..." America mumbled.

Russia smiled brightly at Canada.

"Maple! You almost forgot me again?!" Canada yelled to the others, then walked over to Russia and wrapped his arms around his waist. Russia put a loving hand on top of Canada's head and gave America a smug smirk.

France almost had a fangirl attack, seeing the two like that, America was so mad that it seemed like he was ready to punch something, and England still had no idea about what was going on, and why France had dragged him to a supposed stranger's house.

Canada sighed. "Well... at least SOMEONE remembered..." He mumbled.

"That's right bro! And- Hey are you alright?" America asked, looking at his brother.

Canada looked right back at America. "W-why do you ask?"

"Well... You're getting pretty pale, and you're getting kind of bug eyed. Also... H-hey, are those blood stains on your hoodie?!" America exclaimed.

Canada's knees gave out and he fell to the floor.

"Mattie?! What are you doing?! Get up!" America yelled.

Canada felt strong arms lift him from the ground.

_Russia..._

"Mattvey, are you feeling unwell?" Russia asked.

France could be heard talking on the phone. Panic was in his voice. He must have been talking to a 911 operator.

Canada's eyes started to close.

"Matvey! Don't be closing your eyes!" Russia commanded.

"MATTIE!" America yelled.

Everything went black.


	3. Waking up

**A/N: Final update! Yay! I hope you all agree with the changes and improvements I've made.**

**I do not support suicide, and if you are suicidal, don't be afraid to come to me. I'll be happy to help you out however I can.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: THE SAME FREAKING WARNING FROM THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS.**

**Extra note: All underlined words will have a translation at the end.**

**/ / /**

_**Beep.**_

_Where am I?_

_**Beep.**_

_Am I dead? I made a stupid mistake trying to commit suicide... I should have waited until the end of the day..._

_**Beep.**_

_Everyone must be extremely worried._

_**Beep.**_

_Scratch that. RUSSIA must be worried. He's the one who must care the most, since he was technically the only one who remembered..._

_**Beep.**_

_Where is that stupid noise coming from?! It's driving me crazy!_

Canada opened his eyes and squinted at the bright whiteness. He moaned a little, and squirmed.

"Mattie! You're awake!" Canada heard his brother yell, and was pulled into one of America's normal, awkward, bone-crushing hugs, which was made more awkward than usual because Canada was laying down, and America had to lean over the side bars of the bed to hug him.

"Matthieu! Are you okay? The doctor told told us that overdosed on sleeping pills. Your wrists were cut, too, and I can see some other scars on your arms." France said.

America let go of his brother, allowing Canada to make eye contact with his papa.

France's eyes were red-rimmed and his face was pale. He seemed to have been crying.

"Papa..." Canada mumbled, then averted his eyes, feeling them moisten. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it! Matthieu, you almost _DIED!_" France snapped.

A slapping sound was heard, and Canada looked up. France had a red mark on his cheek, and England was standing over him, pulling at his cheek.

"Yelling at him will get you nothing! It'll only stress him out more!" England snapped. "Now, quit being the bastard you are and forgive your boy."

France held his red cheek and looked at Canada.

Canada looked away. "I... I thought you guys didn't care about me anymore, so I decided just last week on suicide... But I decided to wait. I had a little gamble with myself. If you guys remembered my birthday this year, I wouldn't do it... and, well, I thought you had all forgotten... But now I know that I was stupid, and I truly am very sorry for my actions..." He said, tears dripping down his face and onto the bandages wrapped around his wrists.

Everyone stared at Canada.

"Mattie, we all love you and care about you." America said, feeling angry at himself because he had neglected his brother so often.

France and England nodded in agreement to his statement.

"What your _brat _says is true, comrad." Russia said.

Russia's voice made Canada jump. How he didn't know Russia was in the room was surprising. The guy was pretty darn hard to miss, because if his size didn't give him away, his frightening aura would.

Russia walked over to Canada and rested one of his large, gloved hands on Canada's head.

Canada sniffled, feeling more tears rush from his eyes.

"See?" America said. "Even the commie was worried!"

Canada looked at his brother and scowled. "How many times have I told you not to call him that?!"

America chuckled, and Canada's face softened.

"Anyway..." France piped in. "The doctors said that you, amazingly, weren't actually in too bad of shape. They told us that you'd be able to leave in a few days or so."

Canada smiled. "That's great!" He said cheerily, then his eyes widened and his mouth set into a deep frown.

"Mattie? What's up?" America asked.

"So... none of you guys hate me or are ashamed of me, right?"

"_Mon dieu_! Matthieu, no one could _ever _hate you, much less be ashamed of you! We're all just a little bit mad at you because you thought low enough of yourself to even _consider _suicide." France said.

"Oh..." Canada mumbled, feeling a bit better.

"Anything else on your mind, Matt?" America asked.

"I left Kumajiro at home, and I didn't leave any food out for him... I'm afraid he'll get into my maple syrup again." Canada said.

America laughed. "Don't worry bro. I'll go to your house later and take care of Kumiro." He said.

"Kumajirou." Canda corrected.

"Sure."

A nurse came into the room. "Excuse me please, but since the patient has woken up, we're now sticking to regular visiting hours, which are now over." She said.

England nodded at her and dragged a protesting, crying France out of the room.

America gave Canada one more of his awkward hugs, then left to go take care of Canada's little bear friend.

Russia gave Canada a kiss on the forehead, sent a glare to the nurse that told him to leave, then left the room.

The nurse gave Canada a quick smile and left herself.

Canada smiled softly to himself once everyone was gone. He closed his eyes, and one thought, one thought only, echoed through his mind as he drifted off into unconciousness.

_"They do care..."_

**Translations**

**Brat- Brother (Russian)**

**Mon dieu- My God (French)**


End file.
